


Burnings and Beddings

by The_Phantom_Prince



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel's Trenchcoat, Drabble, Fallen Castiel, Gen, Human Castiel, Post Season/Series 8, Sleep, Sleepy Dean, the batcave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:59:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Phantom_Prince/pseuds/The_Phantom_Prince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the everything with Crowley and Naomi is said and done, Castiel is ready to begin a new life with the Winchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnings and Beddings

Heaven is closed. Hell is closed Naomi is gone and Crowley is nothing more than a pile of smouldering ash on the floor of a musty, abandoned building.

Now that it's all done, everything seems somewhat surreal.

Castiel poked absently at the bandage on his left wrist that Dean had placed there shortly after the confrontation. It itched. He had already been human for all of approximately five hours and the tedious and prolonged process of human repair was beginning to grate on his patience.

When the three of them had returned to the motel room, Sam had offered to go out and get alcohol for them to celebrate with that didn't involve being used as an antiseptic. When Dean had turned the prospect down, however, Sam had simply shrugged and taken off into town on his own.

Dean had said that he wanted nothing more than to "collapse into bed and sleep for a week," though Castiel hoped that he wouldn't really remain unconscious for that long as a coma would indicate a serious medical condition. Dean had questioned him as to what his own course of action would be and Castiel had assured him that he had no intentions of leaving again, which Dean had appeared relieved to hear. Castiel had, however, insisted that he had a personal matter to which he wanted to attend. Dean had raised an eyebrow at this but didn't pry.

Now, Castiel was standing in the crisp night air, staring down at the quickly dying flames which had engulfed the overcoat that he had been wearing for the better part of the last five years. It was something that he had long since begun to associate with his role as an angel but that no longer seemed fitting. Castiel was human; it was time to begin a new life.

Besides, as Dean had pointed out, he stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing such things in Kansas when it was almost summer.

Once the flames had finally been reduced to glowing pile of embers, Cas dug a heel into the ground to extinguish them. Certain that the fire was truly out, Castiel returned to the room to find that Dean was already passed out on one of the bed, still dressed in the same clothes that he had been wearing when Castiel had left.

 

The next night, the were at the bunker of the Men of Letters, or, as Dean apparently preferred to call it, the Batcave.

Cas was making his way down one of the hallways, this one leading the room that had been decided to be his from now on, situated directly across the hallway from Dean's room. When Castiel approached his door, he could see through Dean's, which had been left quite open.

With the light of the hallway pouring in, Cas could clearly make out Dean sleeping soundly on his bed, face relaxed, blanked pulled over his waist, and arm outstretched to the opposite end of the bed. From where the bed sheet failed to cover, though, Cas could plainly see that the hunter was stripped down to a single layer, if the lone t-shirt that he saw was anything off which to base his assumption.

A small smile that Cas did not even notice bloomed on his face at the sight of his friend, so clearly comfortable in his surroundings. Remembering that Dean had informed him on more than one occasion that he didn't care to be observed while sleeping, though, Cas turned and retreated into his own room.


End file.
